


Wouldn’t Be Much

by bootson



Category: Actor RPF, Star Trek RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-12
Updated: 2009-10-12
Packaged: 2017-10-31 01:38:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/338462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bootson/pseuds/bootson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris doesn't sleep with his friends; Zach decides this is a lame rule.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wouldn’t Be Much

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'ed by my darling [](http://chellealistic.livejournal.com/profile)[**chellealistic**](http://chellealistic.livejournal.com/) <33  
>  Basically, I’ve been all mental blocked so I sat down, listened to the slow songs on Reba’s new cd and pretended I knew what in hell I was doing with this. If it reads like a country song without a plot…well, it happens. I may also have been watching _The Notebook_ at some point in this process.

Somewhere around three a.m., Chris’ phone started playing some ridiculously loud Death Cab bullshit. Zoe had set “The Sound of Settling” for Zach on his phone a while back, convinced it was so _them_ and Chris was too lazy to change it even if it irritated the immortal fuck out of him. Face buried in the pillow, Chris grabbed the phone and hit the silence button, staring at the screen as the call continued.

He could let it go to voicemail and respond at an appropriate hour when he was actually awake. Right, Chris could ignore Zach when he was calling in the middle of the night and hope that it wasn’t serious. But what if it was? What if there was an accident and Zach was stranded somewhere in the shady part of town? What if he’d gone home with some crazy fuck and needed an escape? What if it had nothing to do with Zach but something had happened to Joe, Margo, or one of their friends?

Sighing, Chris pulled the phone up and stabbed the button just before the call cut off.

“Zach? What’s going on?” There was silence for a few beats. “Zach? Hello?”

“Hey,” the older man’s voice was sheepish. “You were asleep, weren’t you? Sorry, man. Just…it’ll wait. No big deal. G’night.”

“Don’t hang up, you fucker,” Chris interjected quickly. “I’m already awake now. You okay?”

Silence again. “I…can I come over?”

And here they were all over again. This is what they’d decided to avoid when they didn’t have to see each other every day. They could stay friends without leaning on the other constantly because that just wasn’t all too healthy, now was it? But they always broke the rule eventually anyway, putting the other in a conflicting role. Chris could turn Zach away when he was obviously upset, but he’d feel like an ass. Being a friend meant you did things for each other even if it wouldn’t feel platonic and it would hurt in the morning. Zach had done it for him when he’d lost that last stage role because _we don’t need movie actors to bring people in._

“Why are you asking me that?” He forced a laugh. “Come on, then. I’ll see you soon.”

 _Soon_ turned out to be around twenty minutes before Zach was knocking quietly against the window of the door. Chris had trained Zach well; Zach turned the doorknob and walked in when he realized Chris had unlocked it for him. He stopped in the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets when Chris looked up at him from the sofa.

Chris ignored the blue being cast around the room by the bad late night movie he’d found and set down his water bottle. At the same time, he gave a head jerk meant to indicate Zach should come farther into the room. He was biting his lip when he stood in front of Chris, looking in his general direction but not directly at him.

Reaching out, Chris tugged on Zach’s hand and was met with less resistance than he’d expected as he hauled him onto the seat next to him. He draped his arm across the back of the sofa as Zach tugged at his own hair and leaned back.

“You got something to say or are you just in desperate need of a hug?”

A small smile quirked Zach’s lips. “You are an exceptional hugger.”

“I keep trying to tell you people this,” he laughed, dropping his arm around Zach’s shoulders and pulling his closer. “What’s going on, babe?”

“I haven’t slept in days and it’s making me neurotic.” It was all one long sigh, punctuated with an emphatic yawn.

Chris rolled his eyes indulgently. “You’re always neurotic; sleep deprivation just makes you acutely aware of it.”

“Very nicely put, doctor. Anything else you’d like to add?” Even if he was trying to sound irritated, the way he snuggled into Chris’ side negated the tone.

“What’s really wrong, Zach? You could down some cough syrup and sleep for a week. Why come here instead?” It felt like a foregone conclusion. Chris knew what it was, always deduced what was wrong when Zach came running to him in the middle of the night. It was always when he felt secluded, desolate, lonely and couldn’t shake the vulnerable feelings because it was, in fact, the middle of the night and he _was_ alone. Maybe it was only for a few hours, but Zach really did like contact and company even when he pretended otherwise.

Zach shrugged and pressed his head a little tighter into the curve of Chris’ neck. “I missed you. Wanted to see you for a while.”

Taking a deep breath, Chris slouched a little more and took more of Zach’ weight onto his own shoulder. “You see me all the time.”

“You’re different when it’s late,” Zach said in a voice just above a whisper. “You’re all pliant and quiet. I like it.”

They always knew it was there, the sexual tension they tried to ignore but fed all the same. Chris always assumed he was worse about hiding it than Zach, but you couldn’t exactly say Zach never held on a little too tight. No, they both did it and pretended it was nothing. They were friends, co-stars and ruining that with some torrid affair was out of the question. So they played like they were friends and it always found them in the same place, scenarios mirroring this one.

Eventually, they always curled up on someone’s sofa and pretended they weren’t cuddling like a real couple. But they always were, always needed each other a little more than they would consciously, comfortably admit.

Apparently, however, Zach was in the mood to let a little more slip tonight. He wrapped an arm around Chris’ waist and held him closer. Why he was suddenly feeling so closed off from the world was anyone’s guess, but Chris couldn’t fault him for it.

“Hey,” he whispered, leaning a little to the right so he could turn his head and look at Zach’s face. He noticed his mistake instantly; the second Zach’s eyes met his, he knew he was trapped in some type of losing battle.

He knew people enjoyed waxing poetic about his eyes. When you had blue eyes of just about any shade there was always a reason for someone to go overboard with the accolades for something completely outside anyone’s realm of control, but whatever. The point was, the amount of people who were in awe of his own bright eyes only because they weren’t brown were missing something quite key. Zach’s eyes, well, damn. There was the trite description of _melted chocolate_ and there was the metaphorical description about things like _dusky skies_ and _twilight_. Chris, for his part, simply got stuck on something like _searing_ because that’s exactly how it felt when Zach turned the full force of his gaze on you. You’d always feel like the world was ending and being rebuilt all in one fell swoop.

Alternatively, that may have just been Chris’ biased perception of it.

“Hmm?” Zach hummed in question, waiting out Chris’ introspection.

“We shouldn’t do this so often, you know that right?” Turning his eyes toward the mundane romance on the television, Chris pretended his voice didn’t shake.

Instead of pulling away as expected, Zach pressed closer. Of course. Who would really expect Zachary Quinto to actually fucking do what you want him to?

“Actually want me to leave or do you like having me here? Like this?”

With warm breath brushing against his throat and warmth seeping through his shirt from a broad hand, who in their right mind would agree to something as absurd as that? Chris sighed and shook his head slowly.

“What I thought,” Zach whispered, pressing a lazy kiss to Chris’ jaw. “Think we should do this more often.”

Obviously, he was tired. Chris could tell by the dropped subjects in half his sentences. Still, Chris knew he should be putting this into perspective.

“What? Cuddle?”

“Sure,” Zach shrugged and must have caught a brief second-wind. He shoved to his feet and Chris missed the heat coming off his body immediately. “Bed. C’mon.”

“Zach-“ He started but stopped when Zach cut off the television and reached for his hand simultaneously.

Semi-reluctantly, Chris followed his groggy best friend into his bedroom and shifted the rumpled blanket and sheets back while Zach stripped down to his boxers. Chris most certainly didn’t stare or choose that moment to pull his shirt over his head just to avoid taking in the scenery. Flipping off the lamp, he climbed onto the right side of the bed while Zach took up residence on the left. It was weird, but Chris always slept on the left side unless Zach stayed over.

As soon as the blankets were pulled up, Zach was shifting around until he was on his side and facing Chris. In the darkness, Chris could see a vague outline of Zach’s facial features but nothing else. The shadows made him seem softer somehow and Chris had to admit he liked seeing Zach like this.

“Been pretty patient with you,” Zach whispered and Chris thought he’d heard wrong.

“Come again?”

“Put up with a lot for you. Kind of sick of it, actually.”

“Are you drunk?” Because it was abundantly clear at this point that he really was in the midst of a second wind and too damn awake for Chris’ own good.

Zach shook his head and shifted closer, draping an arm over Chris’ chest and pressing his fingers into Chris’ arm. Chris’ brain tried to ascertain exactly which path this half-awake conversation was following, a valiant yet futile effort.

“Figured you’d get sick of it, right? Take back that stupid _pact_. But no. You don’t fuck your _friends_.” Tired as he may have seemed before, Zach was getting really philosophical on him and where the hell had that come from anyway?

“Friends are more important.”

“Not just me?”

The words hung in the air, twisting around like smoke from a midnight cigarette. They curled in the streaks of light coming in through the thin curtain and tried to form something else for Chris to grasp but couldn’t quite manage it. Shifting closer, Chris reached out to turn Zach’s head until he got the phantom sensation of meeting Zach’s eyes even if he probably wasn’t.

“Maybe you’re the most important, but I don’t get where this is coming from.” Except maybe he did, in an abstract sort of way.

“You _know_ , Chris. You always knew.”

His frustration was mounting, clawing at his throat in something akin to panic. If he knew where this was going, he could figure out what to say to make it stop. Zach, however, had this ass backwards way of doing things, especially when it got serious, and Chris couldn’t work it out the way he usually could. “Knew what? For fuck’s sake, Zach! I don’t even know what we’re talking about right now!”

“Talking about us. I never got over you, never even came close.”

On instinct, Chris went for the obvious retort. “I never knew you were under me.”

“Are you having an anxiety attack right now?” Hand travelling up to rest over his heart, Zach leaned close enough for Chris to see how he scrunched up his nose.

Maybe. Probably. Yes. “No. I just don’t get this and it’s kind of fucking with my head.”

“Because you don’t pay attention, Christopher.” With another sigh, Zach pressed his eyes to Chris shoulder, nuzzling against him lightly. Chris was thankful for it, some of his tension easing. “Don’t you ever miss it? How we were before _Trek_?”

Oh. That. Chris cleared his throat. “Sure, I do. It was great, but –“

“No. Just, do you miss us? Like that?”

“Zach, please don’t make me do this.” Yes, he was whining. Yes, he was about to start begging. No, he damn well wasn’t ashamed of it.

An ill-timed blink let Chris miss what it looked like for Zach to move until he was leaning over Chris with an arm on either side of his shoulders and Zach’s left leg pressed against his right. “Tell me you don’t ever think about the random hookups.”

“That’s all they were. _Before_ we knew each other.”

“I call.”

“You can’t call bullshit on this,” Chris grumbled but Zach just leaned closer until their noses were touching.

“Don’t expect me to believe that. We’re probably the only fuck buddies in history who used to debate Tennyson, Keats, and Byron in cabs and then do crosswords over the phone even when we’d avoided the awkward _morning after_.” Chris had to concede on that point. “Half the people we know think we’re dating. And my mother expects you to visit no less than three times when you go back east. Oh, and your sister said she’ll track me down and drag me over if I’m not there for Thanksgiving.”

“So? You come over in the middle of the night and I text you first when something happens-“

“Good or bad?”

Chris knew it was a trick but he couldn’t lie to Zach, never could. “Both. But the point is: what kind of friends would we be if we didn’t do those things for each other? Why fix what’s not broken?”

Zach kissed him, light and chaste, and Chris was too confused not to let him. “Because it _is_ broken. We did it the normal way, would have been together by now if you didn’t suddenly find some morals. Which, by the way, is more annoying than endearing. It’s not like J.J. or Paramount threw a no fraternization clause into our contracts.”

At this point, Chris wasn’t sure if he should be offended or not. All he knew was that Zach was _right_ there and he had missed having Zach over him this way. Admitting it was going against so many things, though, too many things to ignore. What if they didn’t work out? He wouldn’t say it since Zach would say they _may_ work, which was true. If they pulled this off, everything would be pretty damn phenomenal. If they didn’t make it and had to force out two more movies, at least, with bad chemistry then they were jeopardizing the careers of their friends.

“We’ll fuck it up,” Chris ended up claiming anyway.

Heaving a sigh meant for someone who had an intimate relationship with misery, Zach shifted to straddle Chris’ hips. Sliding his hands down Chris’ arms, Zach found his hands and pressed them into the mattress.

“We won’t,” he promised and leaned down to mouth along Chris’ neck and up to his ear. “We’re not talking a big change. You’ll tell me when I’m being a pretentious asshole, like you do now.” Chris bit his lip to suppress a shiver as Zach’s voice went straight to his groin and the way he shifted his hips didn’t help the matters any. “And I’ll tell you when you’re being an insufferably oblivious bastard, like I always have.”

“Zach…” Chris breathed, rocking up against Zach to relieve the pressure but only managing to go from half hard to fully. “You’re incorrigible.”

“That too,” he laughed low in his throat.

He leaned down and pressed his lips against Chris’, not really kissing but resting with their mouths together. It was an option, Chris’ choice of where this went. As if there was any question about Chris’ next course of action when he had a mostly naked Zach Quinto pressing against him and breathing his air. To prove a point, Chris surged forward and sealed their mouths together. A surprised sound escaped Zach’s lips and Chris used that moment to coax his lips open and taste him for the first time in entirely too long.

Tugging against the hold on his wrists while Zach melted against him, he broke free long enough to grip at the other man’s disheveled hair. A brief battle ensued while Zach’s briefs and Chris’ pants were shed and the vied for position.

Zach relented in the end, letting Chris press him into the mattress. Not that it was such a chore with Chris’ hand sliding up his thigh and his mouth gliding down his stomach.

“Thought you hadn’t slept in a week?” Chris muttered when Zach arched into him.

“One more night, _God_ , not such a big change.” He was a step away from begging for Chris to just fucking _touch him_ and stop being a tease. Past experience turned the words into a moan though, knowing Chris would up his game if Zach whined. Sadistic bastard.

“You get bitchy when you don’t sleep,” Chris pointed out, trailing his fingertips all-too-lightly up his cock.

“ _Please,_ ,” Zach gave in, trying to thrust into the touch.

A sharp bite against his hip provoked something like a growl, which earned him a smirk.

“You blackmailed me into sex,” Chris told him with feigned disdain.

“You have a point, Pine?” The word almost got drowned in a short cry when Chris finally closed his fingers around him.

Chris’ movements were lazy, his hold too loose on the upstroke purely because it was the opposite of what Zach wanted. “We’re not starting this out much differently than we did in the beginning. Wouldn’t be much like us if we didn’t get circular.” When he dipped his head to run his tongue up Zach’s cock, Zach gripped his hair.

“Stop fucking talking, goddamn, Chris,” Zach muttered and Chris’ laugh was only cut off when wet heat engulfed him.

Maybe he sighed in relief or whined in desperation, but it didn’t matter. Zach was too caught up in having Chris’ absolutely perfect mouth on him again and Chris was too intensely focused on not fighting anymore. A mutual victory, how typical for them. They were always going to be like this, not enough and way too much all at the same time.


End file.
